The light flickered for an instant, and a second signal, even louder than the first, ripped through the air. The Keeper's eyes widened, an indescribable horror painting itself across her face.
"An attack…?" Kaëlan murmured, his hands tightening around his bag.
The Keeper hastily pulled a crystalline glass lens from a fold in her robe. The Lutech lens, perfectly transparent, immediately began to glow as soon as it touched her palm. Letters and blazing symbols appeared on its surface, shifting and swirling before their eyes.
"A Monarch of the Abyss…"
Her face crumbled. The word hung in the air, terrifying, resonating in the minds of the two young men like a death sentence. The authority she had exuded moments ago collapsed, and her legs gave out beneath her. She crumpled to the ground, her wide eyes filled with a mix of despair and terror. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She simply stared at them, paralyzed.
Monarch… of the Abyss.
A beast corrupted to the level of an Exalted of the Dawn.
Gaël felt nausea surge up within him, his thoughts spiraling into chaos. How could such a nightmare have come here? Wasn't Kernéval protected by the circle of light?
He didn't wait for an answer. The mute despair in the Keeper's eyes was enough. Without thinking, he grabbed Kaëlan by the arm.
"We're leaving. Now!"
They bolted for the doors, pushing them open with all their strength as the heavy wooden panels groaned under the force. The frigid morning air struck them full in the face, but there was no time to brace for it, chaos had already erupted in the streets.
The townspeople, roused from their sleep by the alarm, crowded at their windows, anxious gazes fixed on the horizon, or rather, on the colossal tentacle that coiled around a watchtower. Some scrambled for weapons, snatching up whatever crude arms they could find, while others stood frozen in pure panic, unable to move.
A murmur rose from the crowd, merging with sobs and the barked orders of soldiers:
"Evacuate! Now, to the gates! It's our only chance!"
As panic swelled, questions flooded Gaël's mind.
Why hadn't they been warned earlier?
What were the watchmen doing? Skilled soldiers, stationed along the cliffs and atop luminic towers at sea, tasked with spotting dangers, had they been blinded? Wiped away like mere pawns?
His gaze locked onto the tentacle stretching across the sky, moving slowly yet inexorably, as if even the light itself recoiled from its presence. A piercing cold shot through his chest.
This thing should never have been able to get this close to shore.
Where were the Radiance Keepers? Where were the Ardents of the Shining Light ? Their forces should have been able to repel, or at least slow down, an abomination like this.
Then, suddenly, the realization struck him like a hammer blow.
There was no chance of victory. Not this time.
Even the ardents, the strongest warriors imbued with the power of the Lumen, would have been helpless.
Without an exalted to counter this creature, death was the only outcome.
The difference in power was unimaginable, like a child trying to hold back a tidal wave.
The naval defenses must have been annihilated before they even had the chance to sound the alarm. The city had only been warned at the last possible moment, when the monstrous entity had already shattered the final barriers.
And now, it was too late. Far too late.
The grand lutech barrier, the pride of the city, had been obliterated the moment the creature arrived. That first deafening impact they had heard, Gaël realized, must have been its destruction.
Because now… the barrier was gone.
A suffocating energy filled the air, a corruptive pressure so thick it gnawed away at the sacred influence of the stone circle, the circle of light , which wavered under the overwhelming weight of the approaching horror. Invisible fractures seemed to form in the atmosphere as the very essence of the Lumen weakened.
The corruption of the Umbra… so dense, it felt alive.
Even Gaël, born stained, resistant to the darkness by nature, felt his defenses faltering. A metallic taste filled his mouth, nausea rising as his own blood boiled under the weight of the corruption.
He turned to Kaëlan, who looked back at him, pale and shaking, but ready to run.
No words were exchanged.
There was nothing to say. They both knew what this meant:
Run. Or die.
With a single nod, Gaël threw a final glance at the radiance keeper, still frozen at the entrance of the house of light, her eyes wide with horror, her body paralyzed in fear.
Then they ran.
Through the alleyways, dodging panicked townspeople, while the shadow behind them grew, swallowing the light. Windows slammed shut. Doors were locked in frantic haste. Prayers mingled with desperate cries.
The entire city was drowning in panic.
Children wept, clinging to the skirts of terrified mothers. Elderly men and women, too weak to flee, huddled in dark corners, whispering prayers that would go unanswered. Some soldiers tried to impose order, but their voices vanished beneath the cacophony of fear.
At last, they reached their neighborhood, where their two homes had stood side by side for generations.
Kaëlan's door was already wide open. His father, a sturdy man with a face hardened by years of labor, held his little sister by the hand. His mother, eyes dark with urgency, shoved them toward the street, toward the only escape left.
"Kaëlan, move!" his father shouted.
Without hesitation, Kaëlan obeyed. He didn't even look back.
Gaël was left alone, a hollow uncertainty gripping him.
But his family… where were they?
His mother. His little brother.
Heart hammering, Gaël sprinted toward his own home. The door was ajar. Inside, it was dark. Too quiet.
A bad sign.
"Mom?! Aedan?! Where are you?!"
No answer.
He rushed inside, searching room after room.
The house was in disarray, chairs overturned, food scattered across the floor as if someone had fled in haste.
But no sign of them.
No sign of his mother. No sign of Aedan.
A cold weight crushed his chest.
Had they already left? Was he too late?
He ran back outside, frantically scanning the crowd for a familiar face, but the panic had swallowed all order. People collided into each other. The wounded screamed. Others collapsed, their minds shattered by the corruptive force seeping into the city like poison.
Behind him, an explosion rang out. A deep, earth-shaking detonation, followed by a monstrous cry.
Gaël spun just in time to see the monarch's tentacles unfurling over the city, its presence tearing through reality itself.
Then...
A miracle.
From the summit of the grand luminic lighthouse, a beam of pure light erupted, piercing the sky like a divine spear. A radiant column, brighter than the sun itself.
The air shook as the light struck the hidden monstrosity beyond the cliffs. A shockwave rippled through Kernéval, sending dust and debris flying. The city trembled, and for one fleeting moment, the darkness recoiled beneath the sacred assault.
Gaël's heart surged with hope.
Someone was fighting.
Someone could still turn the tide.
But his relief was short-lived.
A deep, guttural roar rose from the ocean, a sound beyond comprehension. It rumbled like the voice of the abyss itself, vibrating in Gaël's bones, shaking the very earth. The cries of the townspeople ceased, their terror-stricken silence more deafening than the chaos.
This was not a cry of pain.
It was a cry of rage.
The beast was not dead.
It had been wounded.
And now... it was furious.